The Shield
by MikhaelaBarlow
Summary: Hermione Granger is mourning the death of her boyfriend, Ron, when she is told that, within the next few years, her body will shut down, and she will die. She tries to run away, but there is one boy who won't let her forget her family, and won't let her run. Can Fred Weasley bring Hermione back from the abyss? Or will she fall, as all bad angels do?
1. The Nightmare and the Notebook

**Disclaimer: Not JK Rowling, clearly, so I do not own the series, just the plot**

**Thank you to anyone that reads this. The chapters are quite short, so they shouldn't take long to read. Please let me know what you think as this is only my second multi-chapter FanFiction. **

**Any feedback at all is great, so feel free to critique it to death. I've got feedback on my other multi-chapter, which was a ScoRose one, called Ice-Cream, if anyone is interested, and I've tried to make it easier to read, but let me know if I've failed. I want to improve my writing, so I welcome criticism, but only the positive ones. If you're negative or mean, you belong in an asylum and I don't want to hear it, because that does not help at all. **

**So, anyway, enjoy, have fun, say hi, please, please PLEASE review!**

* * *

Fred walked through the Burrow way after everyone else was asleep. He couldn't sleep himself. No, he was too swamped in guilt for that. He should have been there. He would have taken the fall for him. He would have protected his baby brother. He would have kept him safe. He would have made sure that Ron was kept alive and well and safe and secure, not six feet under, kept in eternal sleep in a wooden box.

He kept walking, ploughing through his thoughts and hoping for some sort of relief he could supply for himself, when he heard the screaming. And not just screaming. The blood-curdling, spine-tingling cries of pure, unadulterated agony, coming from Ginny's room. He ran full tilt to get there, sprinting up the stairs like the devil was after him.

Ginny was crouched over a writhing Hermione, trying to quiet her. Hermione was obviously having a very bad nightmare, but what struck Fred was the fact that she wasn't waking up, and it didn't seem like she was going to in the near future.

"Ginny, what happened?" He demanded loudly over Hermione's screams, coming over to kneel next to Ginny, smoothing his hand over her forehead and pinning her arms to the bed, trying to quiet her thrashing.

"I don't know! I didn't do anything! She just started screaming!" Ginny replied, pushing her flaming red, sleep-messed hair out of the way. He could hear the others coming to investigate as well, their footsteps echoing off the stairs. He shook her shoulders and yelled in her ear, telling her to wake the hell up. He turned and saw Harry in the door frame with a cup in his hand, filled with water. He handed it to Fred, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Pour the water over her right arm."

"What will that do?"

"Just do what I tell you." Fred did as Harry asked, pouring the water all over her forearm. Hermione sprung up from the bed, sweat glistening off her forehead and hair matted all over her head. She woke with a last, terrifying scream and immediately started swatting at her arm.

"It's burning! It's burning! Get it off! Get it off!"

"Hermione, it's okay!" Fred jerked his arms forward and held her to his chest. "You're alright, you're safe. It was just a dream." He heard her ragged breathing and waited till she had her breath back, then stood up from the bed and beckoned to Ginny to take over.

He didn't need to because Hermione was already being held by a very tired, but sympathetic looking Ginny. Fred left the room, telling the rest of his family to go back to bed and went into the kitchen, filling a few glasses with water. He took out his wand and floated them along to the girls' room so they wouldn't spill. When he arrived back in the girls' room, Ginny was now sitting next to Hermione with an arm around her shoulder, silently offering comfort. Without a word, Fred offered the glasses to both girls and drank from the remaining cup, putting his wand away and sitting on Ginny's bed, opposite his sister and Hermione.

"May I ask?" He queried, knowing that she would understand what he meant. She smiled slightly and held her head in her hands, before turning to him again and answering his question in a round-about sort of way.

"I know that you know that Harry and I and... and Ron... looked for the horcruxes for almost a year." Her voice was small and filled with pain when she mentioned Fred and Ginny's brother. "Our journey was mostly guesswork. There came a point that we had to go to Malfoy Manor to help Luna Lovegood and Mr. Ollivander. We weren't planning to be there long, but we had to go. And we happened to meet Sirius' charming cousin, Bellatrix. She's such a charming woman." She chuckled harshly, and Fred saw Ginny harden her grip on Hermione's shoulder. "Anyway, so we were there and she thought it would be amusing to... um... use the Cruciatus Curse on a Mudblood who was so conveniently close to her." Ginny stiffened and Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. Fred never took his eyes off her. "So Harry and everybody else was in the cell in the Malfoy Manor. What kind of manor has its own personal cell? Anyway, Bellatrix Lestrange used the torture curse and various hexes and any other torture that took her fancy. Like I said: Charming woman. Then she took out her knife and..." She pulled up the long sleeved pyjama top on her right arm and Fred stared at the red, angry letters someone had craved into Hermione's flesh. "She cut that into me. It must have been a cursed blade, because since then, I've been having nightmares that I can't wake up from until someone pours water on it. It feels like my arm is literally on fire. Like my skin is burning off my bones and I can't wake up from it." She wrapped her arms around her knees again, rocking slightly. Fred looked over to Ginny and noticed she was crying, still running her hand up and down Hermione's shoulder.

"You're right, Hermione." Fred told her, smiling as she stopped rocking and looked at him. "Absolutely and utterly _charming_ woman." Hermione smiled in reply to Fred's grin, a chuckle forming on her lips. Before long they were all laughing, and quickly and casually changed the conversation to something less serious.

* * *

Fred woke up the next morning still in Ginny's room, his neck slightly throbbing from the absurd angle he was in. He was sitting on Ginny's bed, leaning back against the wall, his shoulders slumped. He looked across to Hermione's bed, where Ginny was asleep in her lap. She was already awake. She pointed to Ginny and asked with her eyes for help. He leaned over and shifted Ginny so Hermione could wriggle out, before they both laid her back on the bed. She curled up in a foetal position and snuggled closer into the mattress.

They both crept out of the room and downstairs, where they both sat down at the table. Fred drew out his notebook and started looking over a particularly difficult new product he and George were working on. Anything to keep his mind away from the nauseating guilt he felt in his stomach when he had time to be quiet.  
Hermione looked over at his notes and frowned, unconsciously shifting his book so she could see it better. She started to mumble to himself and Fred grinned, letting her work it out.

"You're having problems with this, aren't you?" She asked, sliding her finger along the page.

"It starts off fine, but then the end result never works. We've tried everything." She snorted and gave him a smirk. She flipped a page and looked through the various experiments they had tried. She laughed at one particularly silly one.

"You haven't tried everything. You've changed all your ingredients, but this one here. Fedatron Root."

"But without that, there is no point to the whole thing." He whined. She shushed him and ordered him to get her a quill. He did so willingly, knowing she would be able to sort this out.

"So if you change the Fedatron Root to Greepspark, you should get pretty much the same reaction. And you should also lower the amount of Fuzzwidgeots, otherwise it will counterbalance the effect of Kilowoks." She wrote down her findings in her neat swirls and gave the notebook back to him. He looked it over and ripped out that page, placing it next to him and copying her findings and measurements onto a new page, putting in the new method and ingredients.

"Great." He finally said, tossing the old notes into the bin. "Well, since you're so good at this, we've been having problems with these things, too. We just can't get them to become as goopy as we want. We've even tried Muggle stuff, but they just don't work with the amount of Gremphooks we're using..."

* * *

"So we add the Tremera Juice with the Crumfel Powder and then-"

"No, no, no. I've told you a hundred times, you add the Tremera Juice _after_ the Crumfel Powder and _then_ stir in the Unicorn Hair."

"But I thought that the Tremera had to soak the Crumfel into a paste and-"

"No, if you do that it'll explode in you hands." Harry stopped rubbing at his eyes as he stepped through the kitchen threshold, staring at Hermione and Fred planning pranks. Pranks, for Godric's sake. Hermione didn't do pranks. "It's the Fresonand that needs to be soaked. And it's not a _paste_, it's a _mash_. If it's powdery still, you need to add more till it becomes goopy. And that is what will get your product properly hard." Harry felt a presence at his shoulder and looked over at Ginny.

"Dear Merlin," She said, here eyes wide a scared. "If those two get together on pranks, we'll all gonna die!" Harry gave a chuckle and walked all the way into the dining area.

"Morning." He chirped. Both people at the table gave a wave but didn't look up from their notebook. Harry chuckled again, not exactly sure if the fact that Hermione was helping Fred with pranks was a good thing or a very, very, _very_ bad thing.

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**A/N: So, what did you think? Please let me know, even if you don't leave your name. Please review, I need the help. And, to answer the obvious questions: Yes, I did make up those ingredients and products and stuff. I think. I didn't want to guess and then get it wrong and get hate mail, so I just made some up off the top of my head.  
**

**A/N: As you've probably already guessed, I stuck with JK's original plan and killed Ron and kept Fred. I hope that nobody gets their panties in a twist over this, but if you have a problem with anything going on, let me know and I'll try to fix it. **

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading this. It means a lot. **


	2. The Agreement

**Disclaimer: I am not JK so therefore, clearly do not own Harry Potter**

**Please, please, please review. I know it's not the best it could be and I would really like some feedback. Tell me what you like and dislike and I will certainly take those thoughts into account. **

**Anyway, have fun, say hi, thanks to all those who have favourite and are following. It means a lot. **

**Enjoy and review!**

* * *

Fred waited outside his bedroom door for George to step out, knowing he would wake up any second.

"Georgie!" He started straight away. George's eyes widened in shock until he saw his twin standing there.

"What?" He demanded.

"Hermione is absolutely brilliant. She figured out what was wrong with the Water Wands and the Frestorm Fireworks."

"You're kidding?" George's eyes lit with excitement.

"No, I'm not. See?" He opened the notebook and turned to the correct page, showing George the changes Hermione had made. George scanned the page, nodding silently to himself, before his face widened in a grin the same as Fred's.

"Where is she? She deserves the hug of the century."

"Who does?" They both turned at the voice and George stepped forward, enfolding her shoulders in a massive bear-hug.

"You wonderful witch!" He exclaimed. "You magnificent, fantastic witch!" He broke apart from her and grasped her shoulders. "How would you like a job?"

"George!" Both Hermione and Fred shouted at the same time. George turned to Fred first.

"Come on, Freddie boy, we need her. She's perfect." George told his brother, smiling ear to... the other side of his face. "She can figure stuff out that we can't." He turned back to Hermione, still holding her shoulders. "How 'bout it, 'Mione?"

"But I haven't finished school. And I haven't got a resume and-"

"No problem, it's called distance education. And we don't need a resume. You're hired." Fred caught on and jerked out his hand to her, half mockingly, half serious. He waited for her to shake his hand.

"I'll need to think about it." She said quickly, before turning around and walking away down the hall.

* * *

Fred found Hermione later on that day sitting on a lawn chair, clutching Ron's broom while her shoulders shook. He jogged over next to her, sitting down on the bench beside her. She jerked her head up in surprise, then quickly wiped away her tears, giving a watery smile.

"I'm fine. Really, I'm fine," She told him, nodding her head. Fred didn't say anything for a few moments, before lowering his hand to hers, giving an encouraging smile.

"He was my brother, Hermione. I understand. It's okay." He told her. Tears welled in her eyes again and she folded in on herself, letting the tears come unchecked. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her head to his chest, silently waiting for her to finish.

"I just never expected this." She cried, her voice breaking twice. "I was prepared for Harry. I thought it was going to be Harry. But I never thought that Ron would be the one we had to bury. I never thought that." Fred swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing his tears would not help this situation. "Why him? Why Ron? What was the point?"

"I don't know, Hermione. I can't tell you that."

"I know I shouldn't be feeling this way. He wasn't my family. He was yours and _I_ should be comforting _you_. But I just miss him so much." Her sobs were quieter now, nothing more than a few tears and sniffs, but Fred kept holding her all the same.

"It's understandable, love. It's alright." Fred kept holding her, rocking her slightly in his arms, until she had stopped crying, and even then, he was reluctant to let her go. "You alright?"

"Yeah," She replied, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked down at the broom she was still holding. She moved to give it to Fred, but he stopped her.

"Keep it," He said. "It's yours. Mum won't mind." She hugged it to her chest, smiling a gentle smile. She stood up and walked back to the house, keeping a hold of the broom the entire time. Fred stayed outside for a few minutes longer, before following her back inside.

* * *

Hermione quickly walked down the stairs to the kitchen, smelling the burning coming from that general direction. Fred and George hunched over a cauldron they had set up on the table, hastily looking over Fred's notebook, arguing between each other.

"You put the Tremera Juice in _with_ the Crumfel Powder, didn't you?" She accused, coming over to stand in front of the cauldron. "I told you a hundred times _not_ to do that, didn't I?" She pushed them both out of the way and started to throw in powders and twigs, cutting up huge, berry like things into slices and adding those in as well. "You did what I specifically said _not_ to do, didn't you?" Even to her, her voice sounded irrationally angry, so she shut up and set to work. Before long, the potion was back to the colour it was supposed to be; a deep, almost red, pinky colour. "Have you got the moulds?" She asked. They were sheepishly supplied by a very apologetic looking George. She took the moulds, but ignored the look. She started pouring the goopy mixture into the moulds and set them aside. "They'll need about four to five days to set properly, but they should do the trick now." She finished with just a hint of irony.

"Thanks Hermione," Fred said, planting a kiss on her cheek as George went to go put the moulds somewhere safe. "I promise you're safe from pranks for a week." She tried to fight back the smile that threatened, and failed miserably.

"I think I deserve at least a month,"

"Two weeks. Final offer." She sighed good-naturedly.

"Fine. Deal." They mockingly shook hands on it and a tentative friendship began.

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**A/N: So what did you think? Please review!  
Have fun, say hi!**


	3. Quiddich Games and Memory Charms

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

**Please, pretty please review. Even one word comments can help!**

**Anyway, have fun, say hi, enjoy, and review!**

* * *

Hermione walked outside to watch the impromptu Quiddich match that was going on in the backyard, and sat on the grass, curled up against the chill. She watched Harry zoom back and forth on his broom. She watched Ginny dive for the quaffle. She watched George follow the bludger so he could hit it at someone. She watched Fred carefully assess the best place to score a goal. She watched Bill zoom in front of a hoop to protect it. She watched Charlie scream out the commentary, when he was supposed to be protecting his own hoops.

Fred sailed down towards her and asked if she wanted to play, and she quickly shook her head and shrank back a few more feet. He grinned and landed next to her. He nudged her shoulder playfully and she pushed him away.

"Come on, it's not that bad." He taunted. "What, the great Hermione Granger can't fly?"

"No, the great Hermione Granger is scared of heights." She jerked her head towards the non-existent pitch and smiled. "Go play. I like watching." Fred frowned at her, but took off anyway.

"Rejected, huh, Fred?" Ginny teased as she flew past him. "You lost your snogging skills?" Hermione giggled into her hand and kept watching. The game ended after Harry caught his snitch, and Fred's side won. They all flew back down and landed, half of them grumbling and the other half punching their fists in the air in triumph. Hermione laughed as Fred flew circles around George, taunting him the entire time. Ginny landed next to her and nudged her shoulder.

"Is there anything going on there that I should know about?" She asked. Hermione hesitated for a bit, cringing at the unexpected pain that one question bought her. Ginny seemed to understand, although Hermione wasn't sure how. "Ron wouldn't mind," Hermione stared off into the distance for a minute before replying.

"No, Ginny. There's nothing going on." She stood up and walked back into the house.

* * *

Fred watched her leave, a certain halting to her steps and wondered what was wrong. She hardly laughed any more. In fact, this morning was the most she had laughed since Ron had died. He had noticed as he was flying, and had tried to make sure that he performed as much aerial acrobatics as he could, while still winning the game so she would be entertained. He had hated not being able to fly with her and for some reason, he felt guilty for her fear of heights.

He had a feeling that she wouldn't let herself be happy, in some misguided thought that she would be betraying Ron if she did, and he wanted to try and get her to feel good again. She hurt more than she let on. Like him, she hid it well, behind books and facts and cold, hard logic, whereas he hid it behind his laughter and jokes and pranks. He wanted to peel her out of her shell and help her to learn how to live again, but how did you do that when the person didn't seem to want to live again anyway?

He put his broom away and walked back into the house, stopping in the kitchen to give his mother a kiss on the cheek, smiling at the smells emanating from that general area. He skipped up the stairs, two at a time and stopped at the second landing, hearing a rustling noise from Ginny's room. He opened the door without knocking and peeked around the corner of the door.

"You alright there, love?" He asked, watching her quickly ruffle through a few pages in a old looking book. She looked up at him, a thoroughly impatient look on her face.

"You could knock, you know." She growled at him. He grinned and shut the door. He knocked three times and stepped in. When he did, she was reluctantly smiling, and he bit back a triumphant grin.

"So, have you thought about our offer?" He asked, sitting next to her on her bed. She frowned for a second and shrugged.

"Not really," She admitted. "I've been busy,"

"With what?" He asked curiously, becoming even more curious when she blushed and tilted her head forward, hiding her face with her hair.

"I've been... reading," She said grudgingly. Fred bit back a smile.

"Shocking!" He remarked sarcastically. She smiled reluctantly.

"I've been reading about the possibility of a counter-charm for '_Obliviate'_, if you want the truth." She closed her book roughly, and Fred saw the title of it. 'Memory Charms and Counter Curses' by Hotsby Negon.

"For your parents?" Fred asked, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. She just nodded, keeping her face down, and away from him. "It's alright, love." Really, what else was there to say?

How could he comfort this girl who had lost everything? Her mother, her father, her boyfriend. Her life would never be the same again, and he couldn't tell her otherwise. So, how did he make her feel better? How did you tell someone that everything was going to be okay, when it clearly wasn't? How did you help someone through grief, when you had no idea how to get over it yourself?

"I had to do it for them, you know?" Hermione was saying, and Fred wasn't even sure that she was speaking to him any more. "I couldn't let them be- I couldn't let the death-eaters get to them. So I did the only thing I could think of, thinking that, when it was over, I would be able to find a cure, but I just can't find anything. I've read every book, every parchment, and I just can't find anything." His hand rubbed up and down her arm, trying to offer consolation. "When I found a cure, I was going to go to Australia and find them. Ron was going to come with me." All of a sudden, she shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. "But, none of the matters now. Ron's dead, and there's no cure. And that's okay." She smiled gently and sadly, and looked up at him. "You're a good guy, Fred. Better than I thought." She stood up and opened the door, walking back downstairs.

Fred sat still for a few minutes, shaken, and then followed her.

* * *

**A/N: What did you think? Please review! Have fun, say hi!**


	4. The Leak in the System

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The honour remains with the Queen. **

**Come on, guys, review. I know I need help with this. Let me know what you think, please!**

**Anyway, enjoy, have fun, say hi, review!**

* * *

Hermione didn't know why she felt like this all the time. Every time she walked around, she felt like her heart was shifting up and down inside her chest, like her stomach was flipping in circles and spirals, and threatening to come out through her mouth.

It was past noon when she felt it; a stinging tap in the back of her head, like something had come unglued and burst, and then a quick rumble in the lower part of her body, like something was moving in there, in a way it wasn't supposed to. She tried to deny the feelings, and forget about them, but they just increased and rose , wave after torturous wave. After almost two hours of horrendous headaches, sickening stomach cramps and feeling like her spleen was going to come out the wrong way, her body finally shut down and she fainted.

* * *

Hermione had been unconscious for three hours and Fred was worried. He did not understand the healers who came in and out of her room, saying things like 'failed protection charm' and 'counter spells backfired'. He wished they would tell him and the family what had happened. When he had found her, she had been lying on the ground at an odd angle, hunched around her stomach. He had tried to wake her up, which eventually brought everyone running. Harry had made the decision to take her to St. Mungoe's, and had carried her there through the flue. Now it was just a waiting game.

The whole family, minus Bill, Fleur and Percy, were huddled in the one room, looking at a pale as death Hermione, trying to will her awake. Harry sat in the chair by her side, Ginny behind him, a comforting hand on his shoulder, Mrs. Weasley on Hermione's other side, looking worried, her hand gripped in Mr. Weasley's. Charlie stood in the threshold of the door, leaning against the door frame. George and Fred sat on the counter in the room, both unnaturally quiet.

They waited for another few minutes, counting the seconds, and finally, Hermione opened her eyes. Fred forced back the urge to jump to her side, letting Harry do that instead. Questions were fired around the room, all basically the same question.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Seemed to be the main point. She looked pale and sick, her eyes clouded and sort of misty.

"Where am I?" She asked.

"St. Mungoe's. How are you feeling?" Harry urged.

"Not the best. What happened?"

"I'm afraid it's not the best news." A healer came in, a sympathetic look on his cracked and aged face. White hair fizzed around his head like a halo, and he placed inquisitive, blue eyes on the patient. "Hello, Hermione. I'm Healer Berryfitch. How are you feeling?"

"Not the best, actually, Healer. What's happened?" She looked scared and alone, small and pale and so, so fragile.

eaters?" She nodded again, looking scared. "Sometimes, our protective spells don't work as well as we'd like them to. Sometimes, a tiny piece of them get through the shield, and the curse works. It will be a lot slower than the initial reaction, but it will work."

"So what does that mean, exactly?" Harry asked, taking Hermione's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"You must have been hit by the Killing Curse. The curse rebounded off your protective charm and leaked through." Mrs. Weasley clutched at her husbands arm, tears pooling in her eyes. "It's got into your system. Your organs are shutting down. Hermione," The Healer laid a gentle hand on her knee through the blanket on her hospital bed. "I'm so sorry. There's nothing we can do. There are some things even magic can't fix. You're going to die."

Mrs. Weasley was now openly weeping, Harry looked stunned and Charlie had left the room. George, next to Fred, let out a few shocked breaths, Ginny looked angry and stunned and Hermione... apart from shedding a few tears to begin with, squared her shoulders and faced the Healer, raising her chin, facing her fate with all the bravery and strength that Fred knew she possessed. He had never admired her more than in that instant.

"How long have I got?" Healer Berryfitch smiled and nodded his head, as though he approved.

"Since we have found out about this early, and we can medicate it with potions and charms, longer than most, but even with the medication, not long. At most, you have five years. We can't hold it off for too long." The girl nodded, allowing the answer.

"Thank you, Healer." The kindly man nodded and left the room.

Hermione looked over at Harry, crying at her side. She ran her hands through his hair softly, murmuring soothing sounds to him. _She_ was comforting _him_. George and Fred looked at each other, and started rounding up the rest of the family, leaving the two friends alone.

* * *

**So, guys, what did you think? Emotional impact or no? Believable or no? I know it's short, but I didn't want to have it too long and make people lose interest. Did that work? Review, review, review!**


	5. Hypocritical Lack of Morality

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

**A/N: Okay, so no emotional impact? Okay, need to work on that, thank you. Not exactly the response I was hoping for, but thanks for the review anyway, moonlight 10060. Anyone else have any ideas? Questions? Comments? I'm feeling horribly alone over here! **

**Anyway, you know the drill, enjoy, have fun, say hi, REVIEW!**

* * *

The next few days passed quickly for Hermione. It was funny; surely, now that she was a ticking time bomb, a walking corpse, she would cherish each second and remember every statement, but it all melded together and confused her in her sleep, muddling and messing till it was just a huge blob of unused time. Someone came by every day, bringing breakable smiles and forced laughter, apart from the twins, who couldn't seem to manage being unhappy for too long.

Harry was always tired and quiet when he visited, and she knew that her death would hit him the hardest. Because of Ron's parting, he really only had her and Ginny, and Hermione knew that, while Ginny may be the one he loves, Hermione was his sister and his best friend. It wasn't fair.

It truly wasn't fair, Death taking Ron, but then giving Hermione enough time to make everyone think she was okay. It wasn't fair on them that they had to watch her slowly fall to pieces and crumble into nothing. It wasn't fair that she could begin to see herself having a normal life, and then get it ripped from her.

It just wasn't fair.

She was still in hospital for the next few days, as the healers wanted to keep her stabilised. They had weaned her onto a medication that tasted like sewage smelt, and it felt even worse going down. She had asked the healers if they could find a medication that tasted better, but they all just smiled and sighed patiently and shook their heads, giving her a silent answer.

If that wasn't bad enough, the looks she got from mostly everybody, the undeniable pity in their eyes, it was enough to make her sick. It wasn't like pity could help her situation, so she neither wanted it, nor needed it, but it was given to her anyway, by almost everybody. The twins were the only ones who joked about her illness, and even mocked her, saying that she was only 'pulling a wobbly' so that she wouldn't have to answer about the job they had offered.

Which she was seriously considering.

If she truly was this sick, and she would die within a matter of years, then really, what was the point of doing her N.E. ? It wasn't like she would need them, and besides, if she really did get desperate, there was always distance education, like the twins had mentioned. It wasn't like it was unheard of to do distance education, especially in the Muggle world, but at the same time, it wouldn't be the same...

So, yes, that is what she would do. She would take the job the twins had offered, and she would do distance education on the side. She wasn't sure how she could manage to do both, as the N.E. were exhausting enough on their own, but she had managed before and she would manage again.

Now, all she needed to do was get out of this blasted hospital and get to work.

* * *

Fred walked into the hospital the next Monday morning, bright and early. He whistled as he went, the stark, white walls of the hospital not dampening his spirits at all.

Well, that's what he told himself anyway.

It wasn't like he couldn't get depressed in here, because it was so easy to, but Fred thought that Hermione didn't deserve that. She had been in here for over two weeks now, and the healers thought she'd be in here for a few more days, and Fred thought that the healers had no idea what the term 'interested' meant. Fred had a feeling that the patients were so bored, that if he threw a ball in here, they would run after it like dogs playing fetch.

Speaking of which, that was an amusing picture. Actually, it might be a good product idea. Hmm...

Fred continued on to Hermione's room, stopping outside the door knocking three times. As he stepped in, she gave him a very unimpressed look, letting him know that she did not find that particular joke funny. Given he'd been using it since a few weeks ago, he supposed it was a bit old.

"How are you, love?" He asked, sitting on the chair beside her bed and leaning in to kiss her cheek. He had been doing so ever since she had been admitted to St. Mungoe's, and she was used to it now. He laughed as he saw her disgruntled expression, leaning back in his chair and giving her a grin.

"What's wrong with you?"

"What's not?" She countered, crossing her arms over her chest. Fred shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"When will you stop feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Well, excuse me, but I'm going to die, Fred. I think I have the right to feel sorry for myself."

"Sure you do. But you're not going to die today, are you? In which case, you do not need to feel sorry for yourself today, no?" Hermione sighed and Fred fought back a smile.

She was so stubborn, and it was sometimes funny to watch. Instead, he gave her a mockingly superior look and leaned over to his bag that he had brought with him. Out of it, he brought forth three new books he had picked up from Flourish and Blotts, and his notebook, opening it to a specific page showing a new design for a possible product. He gave Hermione the two books and went over his new product idea. She frowned thoughtfully and checked over the books, which he had marked in several strategic locations with scraps of paper. She held out her hand for a quill and made some suggestions, changed some findings after asking his permission, and made a few quick grammatical corrections. She checked over her notes, made a few more corrections, and handed it back to Fred. He looked it over, circled a few things, then put it back in his bag.

"Don't you think it's a bit mean, though?" Hermione asked as he straightened up. Fred grinned, amused that, while she helped him with it, she still objected to the products due to their 'lack of morality'.

"They're not going to explode or anything, love. Just... suddenly start moving."

"Yeah, but, I mean, little kids are so attached to their teddy bears. Is it really fair to traumatise them like this?"

"They're not going to be traumatised, 'Mione. Just, slightly stunned." She made a noise that sounded a lot like a noise his mother would make. He laughed delightedly.

"There's no use arguing with you,"

"Then why do you keep doing it?"

"You're so annoying."

"Thank you. I do try." She looked up and glared at him, jutting out her chin. He laughed again. "So, have you made a decision about our offer? It still stands."

Hermione sighed and ran a hand through her bushy, brown hair, her chocolate eyes looking hesitant, but at the same time, tremendously steady.

"Yeah, I have." She said finally. "As long as you don't mind my objections too much, when can I start?"


	6. Exploding Parchment

**Disclaimer: I clearly do not won Harry Potter. If I did, I would have a way better computer, rather than my dodgy, boring old one. Which I love anyway, despite it's crapiness. Moving on. **

**A/N: Thanks moonlight 10060 once again for reviewing. In answer to your question: Yes, my uncle. And I'm not judging. I would love to see some of your artworks! Thanks also to rebeccachloe, and thanks for those tips, but I was planning on going into those issues later on in the story. But I'll try and make the chapters longer! **

**A/N: You know the drill, people! Enjoy, have fun, say hi, and of course... REVIEW!**

* * *

Hermione had been working at the joke shop for about a week now, and already, she had grown used to the mess and certain chaos. The laughter from the teens and children certainly made up for it though, and Hermione found herself enjoying her work immensely, more than she thought she would. There were a few accidents that happened on her shifts, a few kids making the same mistakes that she had, putting their eyes too close to the punching telescopes, but it was all in good fun, and cleared up almost instantly, thankfully enough.

Fred and George were a force to contend with, giving out enough joy and overwhelming happiness to sink any misery boats in the nearby vicinity. Hermione was seriously considering asking them if they were taking something to make them so joyful.

She found it sort of strange that, after they had lost their baby brother, they somehow found the ability to give happiness to other people, a trait that she admired in both of them. She thought that Fred seemed to be able to forget a little easier than George, who sometimes took time out on his own to remain quiet and thoughtful. Hermione often wondered what he was thinking about.

It was the end of the day when she found the time to remember her predicament. She was a dying, almost-girlfriend of a war hero, who should have lived. She would be nothing more than a carcass in a box that people came to offer flowers to in the next few years, nothing more than the memory of a bushy haired, bookworm. So much to look forward to.

As she thought of this, without fail, one of the twins would turn up and make her laugh or smile, joking about her health and saying that she was just joking, and she couldn't possibly be dying, because she was such an alive spirit.

Speaking of which...

"'Mione, I need you!" One of the twins called from the room behind the counter, closed off for experiments and repairs on faulty products. She opened the door to see Fred standing over a flat piece of seemingly harmless parchment, but Hermione knew better than to trust anything in this store.

"Isn't it supposed to go chocolates, flowers, _then_ declarations of neediness? In that order?" She teased, closing the door behind her.

Fred turned to give her a quick grin, his startling blue eyes flashing with amusement. "Very funny, Granger. But seriously, come take a look at this." He gestured for her to come over to him, which she did.

The parchment seemed like any other type of parchment, yellowing and thicker than Muggle paper. She checked it out without touching it, not wanting to alarm it into doing something damaging to her immediate health.

"What's wrong with it?" She asked, not able to see what Fred was so concerned about.

"It's supposed to explode." Fred told her, staring at the parchment thoughtfully.

"Uh-huh. And why is it supposed to do that?" Fred looked at her as though she had asked a blindingly obvious and stupid question.

"Because it's Exploding Parchment." He told her, giving her a look that said he clearly thought she was losing her marbles.

"Right then. Of course it is," She waited for a second. "So what's the problem?"

"It's not exploding."

"Right," She replied, looking down at the parchment in question. "When was it supposed to explode?"

"When you touch it. Or write on it. Or pick it up. When you come in contact with it." He answered, quickly and businesslike.

"Right then. And what have you tried?"

"A few charms, but they haven't worked,"

"Have you tried touching it?" At this, he looked at her as though she had offended him.

"Of course I have! What do you take me for?"

"Alright, alright, calm your marbles." She held her hands up in surrender.

His mouth quirked up in a smile at her phrase, but he continued to inspect the parchment. Hermione took a while inspecting it without touching it. Fred, seeing that she still didn't trust it, picked it up and turned it over a few times. He blew on it, bent it, waved it around; still no reaction.

"Alright, give me," She waved her fingers at him and he passed it to her. She brought it close to her face so she could look at it properly. "I think I see what the-" Her face filled with burnt parchment and soot. She coughed as the cloud of soot subsided, and she heard Fred double up in laughter. He hooted in what sounded like triumph, and she glared at him.

"Oy!" She cried indignantly, not exactly thrilled that he was so amused by this humiliation.

"I gave you a month, Hermione." He chortled, starting to back out of the room. "I said two weeks, you got a month. I can't believe you actually fell for that!" At that, he turned on his heel and ran out the door.

Hermione whirled for a moment, before making chase, screaming after him in fury. He laughed the whole way.  
As she ran after him, she bumped smack into George, who took her by the shoulders to straighten her, and then clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

"What?!" Hermione yelled, too furious to keep quiet.

George slowly and carefully took a lock of her bushy hair and pulled it into her line of sight. Her normally brown, bushy hair was now an eye-catching, bright shade of humiliating hot pink. Hermione stared at it for three seconds, before looking up at George and warning him with her eyes. He back up considerably, getting out of her way.

"Fred Gideon Weasley, you get your arse back here right now, or so help me Merlin, I'll hex you into next century!" She waited for a few beats, before there was a popping sound next to her, and Fred appeared, looking bizarrely cheerful, but ever so slightly sheepish. She stared at him for minutes, before finally, her eyes narrowed, and she sent him a look that could freeze lava. "What the hell did you do?" Fred's expression turned unsure, uncertain and slightly scared, and she waited for him to answer.

* * *

**A/N: So, what did you's think?  
A/N: Over-reaction, I know, but I need it for the storyline. You'll understand when I post the next chapter. I hope.  
A/N: Please, please, please review. Love all who did! You're all amazing and deserve a medal. Monuments. Statues erected in your honour. I could go on, but I'm boring you. Anyway... have fun, say hi, REVIEW!**


	7. Falling

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.  
A/N: I know I left you with a tiny bit of a cliff hanger, so you're about to find out what it means. Let me know what you think.  
A/N: Thanks to: Sakura Lisel, Frizzylocks, sibuna4everfabina, Aquila Lestrange, Jedilogray, and moonlight 10060 for following the fic, and thanks also to the guest who left another review. Don't worry, there will be more. **

**You know what I'm going to say, so say it with me: Enjoy, have fun, say hi, review!**

* * *

It was supposed to be funny, a joke. She was supposed to laugh. She was supposed to laugh, and chuckle and join him in his cleverness and get back at him with an equally devious plot. Instead, she looked as though she wanted to kill him. Those brown eyes were supposed to be filled with laughter, amusement, not anger and... betrayal.

"Why did you do this, Fred? Did you honestly think it would be funny?" She hissed at him, as though she hated him.

Fred shared an uncertain look with his twin, who then backed off and instructed everyone else away, telling them that they were closing the shop for lunch time. They had never closed the shop during the day since they had opened.

"'Mione, I didn't mean-"

"You didn't mean what? Didn't mean what, Fred? To humiliate me in front of hundreds of strangers? To completely traumatise me? It's not fair to do that, Fred. It's not fucking fair!" With that, she spun around and ran away, her hand over her mouth, her eyes streaming in tears.

Fred watched her go, staring after her in horrified fascination. What had he done? What could he have possibly done to-

"Gred?" George asked, coming closer to him, walking slowly, moving as though Fred were a flighty deer, possible to run away if he walked too fast. Fred looked over at his twin, his expression mirrored in George's; What the hell? "Am I the only one who...?" George began to ask. Fred shook his head.

"Nope, brother mine. Me too." The both stared at the stairs where Hermione had made her escape.

"Should we go after her?" George wondered, scratching his missing ear. Fred shrugged, not knowing how to deal with teary women. "Should _you_ go after her?" George wondered again. Once again, Fred shrugged. George smiled and pushed Fred's shoulder towards the stairs, making an informed decision. Biting the bullet, Fred did as his twin silently suggested.

Upstairs, there was a hallway, from which three spare rooms broke off, closed off from the apartment, one of which had been made into kitchen so the workers could make lunches in the shop, another had been made into a spare bathroom, and another remained mostly bare. Working on instinct, Fred chose the spare room, opening the closed door.

Something came flying at him. He closed the door just in time.

"Get out! I don't want to talk to you!" Hermione screamed at him, her voice shrill but breaking.

"Hermione, let me in!" Fred tried to reason with her.

"Get out!" Fred knocked on the door a few more times, and almost gave up, but then Hermione opened the door and stood in front of him.

Her chocolate brown eyes stared at him, swimming in recently shed tears, her face blotchy and lined with salt water, her hair a startling shade of hot pink. As he watched, it began to fade, turning into a colour that was closer to green than anything else. He thought it would be funny. He thought this product would make her laugh, and then would make her joke on him. Apparently not.

"How long is this supposed to take, Weasley?" She snarled, looking like she was this close to strangling him.

"It's supposed to wear off within twenty four hours,"

"And what, exactly, were you thinking when you thought you'd try this out on me?" He squirmed, because, evidently, he had not thought properly.

"Well, I thought that you might... I don't know... I thought it might make you laugh or... something,"

"Yeah, or something." Her voice was quieter now, vulnerable. He looked at her, and noticed that she was crying again, her eyes looking broken. "Fred, this is what " A sob caught in her throat, stopping her words, and Fred couldn't hold himself back from holding her then. He caught her in his arms, keeping her up, knowing that, if he didn't, she would fall. "I've been trying to forget them, Fred. Tonks, Remus, Sirius, Colin, Lavender... Ron. I didn't even _like_ Lavender, and I still feel guilty. How is that fair, Fred? How is that fair?" Her voice rose till it was a high keening almost a wail.

"Shush, love. It's alright. I'm sorry, love. I won't do it again."

"I'm falling Fred. I'm falling."

"No, you're not, 'Mione. I've got you. I'll protect you."

"I'm trying to forget Ron, Fred! How could I do that? I can't just-"

"Shush. It's alright." He rubbed her back in soothing strokes, keeping her warm and safe, trying to keep her protected, like he'd promised.

He was falling for this girl. Hard. And it wasn't pretty. But that was what they said; you fell into love, head over heels, tumbling over and over, end over end, until finally, you ended up in paradise. You didn't step daintily and prettily and carefully. You went all in.

But he couldn't do that to her. She wasn't for him. She was still Ron's. How he wished she wasn't, but she was. And, it wasn't like they had all the time in the world either. She only had a few, precious moments. Life truly was like a candle, easily snuffed out.

Hermione burned so bright, so alive and carefree, but she was also so delicate and fragile. She was stubborn and annoying and easily frustrated, stupidly smart and over-anxious, but she was kind and sensitive and funny and fun and cute and sweet and beautiful. So beautiful. It wasn't fair for this to happen to her.

'Snap out of it,' Fred thought to himself. 'She's not for you.'

"You alright?" He asked her, bending down to see her face. It was still marked with tears, but she gave him a brave smile and nodded. He smiled back, and used the charm to turn her hair back to her normal texture and colour. She kissed his cheek in thanks, and left the room.

He shook his head once, dismissing his unwelcome thoughts, and followed suit, calling for his twin to reopen the shop.

"Lunch is over, you lazy bum," He called. "Let's get back to work."

* * *

**A/N: So... thoughts, questions, comments, death threats...? Preferably not the last one but you get my point. Let me know.  
A/N: Yes, I know it's a bit soon, but I've got a plan, so that makes it all worth it. I think. Moving on.  
A/N: So, you know what to do. Have fun, say hi, REVIEW!  
**


	8. Fair Lady's Heart

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Clearly.  
A/N: I feel sad coz no one's reviewing. I could use the help guys. Please? Pretty please?  
A/N: Anyway, moving on, enjoy, have fun, say hi, REVIEW****!**

* * *

Fred hurriedly walked down to the counter, where one particular customer was giving Hermione a hard time. He walked over with his usual smile and swagger, giving off the persona of not caring, but if this guy wasn't careful, it would be Fred's boot up his arse, and his face in the gutter. Hermione looked like she wanted to cry, but she was holding up okay under the pressure, trying to explain something to the angry customer. Fred walked by Hermione, placing a hand over her shoulder in reassurance, before he turned to the customer.

"Is there a problem here, sir?" Fred asked the small, pudgy, brown haired wizard.

"I am not paying four galleons for this!" The man cried indignantly, shaking the item he was talking about in his hand. Fred put his hand out for it, and the man handed it to him. Fred looked over the box of Shrinking Robes, and looked over at the man, who he could see now was holding the hand of a boy, probably his son. Fred shook his head and checked the price again.

"Well, no, you're not, sir. The price is actually four galleons, three sickles and seven knuts." Fred pointed out, winking over at Hermione as she gave him a withered look.

"I will not pay that. It's too much for something so meaningless." Fred looked from father to son, watching the boy send his father a sulky glare and try to pull him away.

"Well, if it's so meaningless, sir, you don't need to buy it." The customer sputtered for a few counts, but then seemed to compose himself.

"I would like to speak to the owners," The man said, grinning all over his face. Fred sent him a grin in return and went down to the back.

"Forge, would you come out here? Some annoying twat wants to talk to us." George looked up from what he was doing and, seeing the gleeful look in his twin's eye, followed him back to the counter.

"Speak away then, sir," Fred told the customer as both he and George came out from the back. Fred looked over at Hermione, who was now smiling, her eyes twinkling in merriment. The customer reeled, seemingly shocked that it was Fred who was an owner.

"I would like to make a complaint,"

"A complaint?" George mocked, looking over at Fred. "Well, this is exciting. I don't think we've ever had a complaint, have we, Freddie?"

"No, Georgie, I don't think so. What's your complaint then, sir?"

"I would like to complain about your overpricing and customer service." The man stated, obviously unnerved by the twins cheery outlook.

"Customer service?" George looked over at Hermione, letting her in on the joke. "'Mione, did you hear that? He's complaining about you! What is the world coming to?" Fred and George chuckled at their own jokes, but then crossed their arms in unison, and looked at the customer as though he was a very annoying bug on the wall.

"We'd suggest you either buy that at the price it states," Fred began.

"Or, you take your business elsewhere," George carried on.

"But we'd also suggest that you think of your son,"

"Before you think of yourself,"

"Works better that way. The whole father-son relationship thing." By this point, a small crowd had assembled, but Hermione was taking care of it, yelling out places to find various products. A group of girls went in search of the Pygmy Puffs, and love potions, and a few of the boys went after a new product called Enemy Brooms.  
The customer glared at the twins, then looked down at his son, who looked to be pleading with his eyes. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the money, handing it over with only a few sour glances. The twins waved goodbye to the father and son, earning as wave from the boy, and a glare from the father.

"That was fun," George stated, grinning around at the shop and walking over to a group of boys staring at a product in the corner.

"I agree. What about you, Hermione dearest?" Fred asked, turning to look at the girl in question. She looked slightly breathless, and very still, but her eyes screamed reluctant amusement.

"I could kill you. I'm seriously considering it." She told him. Fred grinned, not as intimidated of her as he probably should have been.

"Why?" He asked, leaning on the counter with his elbow, ducking as a flying mini-broom sailed past his head. She looked at him for a while, before throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.

"I have no idea. You're just impossible." Fred burst into laughter and ruffled her hair.

"Mum's been saying that for years, love. Go hard." He ran off before she could hit him on the shoulder.

He jogged down to where he saw George walk over to, and ordered a clean up of aisle six, as someone had spilled Permanent Glue on the floor and left before they could be caught. Another employee came running, carrying the only antidote to the glue and staring at the floor. He shook his head, mumbling under his breath, and set to work. Fred continued looking for his twin, and found him in the storage shed, looking over their stocks.

"I think we need to work on selling the Coconut Bombs. They're down on selling." George told him as he stepped in, knowing without a doubt that it was him. Fred make a mental note to make a twenty percent discount sign for them.

"I need to talk to you about Hermione." Fred told his twin, closing the door so no one would hear.

"What about her?"

"George, _I need to talk to you about Hermione_." Fred repeated, layering the words with meaning. George finally looked up.

"Oh. _Oh_. I see." George looked sympathetic and he leaned against a box and got comfortable, so they could have a proper conversation. "When did this happen?"

"Not long ago. I don't-" Fred shook his head, suddenly uncertain.

"But she still loves Ron, doesn't she?" Fred nodded miserably, running his hands through his ginger hair, nervous. "Well, that is potentially problematic. But nothing we can't handle."

"What?"

"Well, the way I see it, we've got three options," George explained. "One: We can leave it and not do anything, which I assume you don't want to do?"

"You would be correct in that assumption. Continue."

"We could go tell her. Right now."

"Or three?"

"We could make her fall in love with you." George finished with a flourish, as though it were the obvious choice. Which it was. Fred smiled a crooked smile and nodded.

"That last thing, that one sounds good."

"I thought so too, Freddie boy."

"So, how are we doing this?"

"You leave that to me. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

"No Exploding Colour Parchment." Fred warned quickly, using his index finger for emphasise.

"Wasn't going to. But Fred, before we do this- you realise this might not end well, don't you?" Fred didn't want to think about it, but he nodded all the same. "Well, alright then," George smiled and they each walked out the storage room. "Let's go win fair lady's heart."

* * *

**A/N: So, what did you think? Let me know. Pretty please.  
A/N: Love you all, just FYI. Figured I should let you know. Anyone who reads this is officially... AWESOME!  
**


	9. Sick Nights

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Duh.**

**A/N: Sorry I haven't posted for a while. Death in the family. Is it wrong that I'm amused by the irony in that? Probably. Moving on. **

**A/N: Need more reviews people. I know you're reading it. Come on. Please?!**

**Anyway, have fun, say hi, enjoy, REVIEWW!**

* * *

Hermione was not feeling well. She had a pounding headache, a swirling stomach, and pains all over, particularly the lower half of her back. She had the flu. Not exactly the best thing to have while working in a joke shop, what with it's noise and endless chatter and laughter. It was not the best place to nurse a headache. Clearly.

She bent down to lift a particular box of products, but, for some reason yet unknown to man or wizard, it slipped from her fingers and the items scattered all over the floor. Hermione cursed under her breath and knelt to pick them up, mumbling and grumbling as she did so. She kept dropping them back into the box, and when she looked back to the floor, there were another two sets of hands helping her, both light and presumably male.

She looked up to see Fred and George smiling at her, helping her to clear the mess. They picked up the last few items and all stood up, packing away the items and placing them on a nearby shelf, ready for sorting later. Hermione bent back, trying to stretch out the pains in her back, but it didn't work. Fred and George shared a troubled look and then moved the look to her.

"Have you taken lunch, Hermione?" George inquired, his tone oddly concerned.

"I was going to later,"

"When's later?" Fred demanded, stopping her from moving out of the room.

"Later is later. Look, guys, am I in trouble?" She questioned, not sure why they were asking her these questions.

"No, 'Mione, no." Fred hurried to reassure her. "It's just- Well, you're pale as a sheet, Hermione. Are you alright?" Hermione, thinking that this could be another prank of sorts, nodded slowly, not giving an actual answer to the boys. They both shared the same frown, which was actually kind of amusing. Hermione bit back a smile and waited.

"Well, you look like crap." George told her bluntly.

"Thanks, George. Your flattery knows no bounds." Fred grinned at her, winking, but George was not distracted.

"I'm not kidding, Hermione. You haven't taken a day off in weeks. And when was the last time you slept through the night?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"How the hell do you have any idea about my sleeping patterns, George?" Fred was now trying his hardest not to laugh, a few ungentlemanly sounds escaping his scrunched up lips.

"Don't flatter yourself, 'Mione." George replied impatiently. "The lack of snoring was a bit of a clue. Also, you look like a panda with a severe case of frizz." Hermione made an indignant sound and ran a hand through her hair self-consciously. Fred cast George a slightly miffed look and nudged his shoulder.

"What George is _trying_ to say, though not very eloquently, is take a day off, love." Hermione looked over at Fred and was struck with the realisation that she had no idea what to say to him.

Since that humiliating day of pink and green hair and crying on his shoulder, Hermione had no clue how to act around Fred. Was she supposed to go back to the way things had been, easy, effortless and nice, or was she supposed to be closer to him, given that they both had had a somewhat weird bonding experience? Fred had always been a sort of exotic creature to her. Always happy, and never worrying, about anything, which baffled her to no end, given that she was always worrying about _something_. And Fred was always so _full_ as well. Not just full of joy and happiness, but of love and kindness and compassion and generosity. How could someone hold all of that, and still remain so steady, never breaking? How could anyone possibly hold that much goodness, especially in a body that was so skinny? Well, not skinny exactly, but lean and athletic, not burly and-

'Shut up, Hermione, answer the question!' She scolded herself and made herself talk.

"I'm fine, guys. I just have the flu, I think, so..." She shrugged, trying to convince the boys that she was fine, ignoring the twinges in her shoulders when she did so. Fred gave her a frown, while George remained stubbornly concerned.

"Okay, Hermione, this is what we're going to do: You are going to clock off now," George held up a hand to stop her objection. "And Fred is going to take you home. And you are not going to come back in until you are one hundred percent recovered, understand?"

"Hey, why am I on babysitting duty?" Fred asked, but then saw Hermione's disgruntled expression. "Not that you're a baby, of course." George was now finally smiling, and turning around to head back to work.

He winked at Fred, and disappeared, yelling at a customer about not touching the Automatic Varqueens unless supervised inside the store. Hermione looked over at Fred, who shrugged nonchalantly and raised his hand for her to side apparate with him. Breathing out a sigh, she did so.

* * *

Fred had taken Hermione back to the Burrow so she could sleep off her flu, knowing that he probably wouldn't be heading back to the shop today. It wasn't a shock to him the Hermione had let herself get sick, as she was not looking after herself as well as she normally would as of late. He had a feeling that it had something to do with her whole dying routine, but something to do with Ron as well.

Oh, Ron...

Fred thought of the last time he had seen his brother, when he had been lying in a padded coffin, looking so peaceful, that Fred had convinced himself that he was just asleep. He hadn't been able to bear watching the coffin being closed, or lowered into the ground, and had left the funeral ceremonies before it had even begun. It was during the nights that he felt closest to his brother, when there was a possibility of hearing his voice on the wind, or see his smile in the stars. He never let anyone see how much Ron's death hurt him during the day, knowing that everyone wouldn't be able to understand his mindset. They hadn't seen it. They hadn't watched him, or held him in their arms as Ron's life bled out between their hands.

Fred had.

He had been fighting with Ron and George during the battle, Fred and George on one side and Ron on the other of a collapsed piece of the roof. George and Fred were basically mucking around, firing off defensive charms and spells, laughing as death-eaters and snatchers fell as they tried to get to them. As Fred fired a 'stupefy' spell at a death-eater, and deflected a spell from a snatcher, he noticed a spell ricochet off the window and shatter it. Not into small, delicate, snow-like pieces, but huge, jagged, dangerous pieces, falling and slashing viscously at all below. It was then that Fred heard Ron screaming.

He had run around the piece of roof and seen his brother with a large, sharp sliver of glass jutting out from his chest, crimson fluid leaking out of the wound, staining the ground scarlet. He had run over to his brother and pulled him into his lap, muttering soothing sounds and reassurances. He had patted his hair, smoothed his hand over Ron's cheeks, hushed his cries, trying to calm his terrified screaming. After a while, Ron had quieted, his hands coming to rest over his stomach. His eyes turned glassy one second before they had closed forever.

And Fred had started to scream for his mother.

Now, every time he thought of his brother, he only saw Ron's eyes slowly but surely turn glassy and unemotional, not longer the sparkling, bright blue orbs he knew so well. He only saw the blood spilling from his chest, and onto Fred's fingers. He only saw the nightmare, no longer anything good, except at night, where he could escape into blissful darkness.

Which was why, more than anything, he didn't want to watch Hermione slowly die. He imagined her in a few years, lying in a hospital bed, looking tired and shrunken and tiny, struggling to breathe and move. He imagined her with dark shadows under her eyes and hands as thin as twigs.

He didn't want to watch, and didn't even want to stick around, but that was what you did for those you loved. Wasn't it?

* * *

**A/N: So, what did you's think? Realistic, descriptive, impacting? Anything? Anyway, let me know. **

**A/N: Have fun, say hi, please please please REVIEW!**


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